Creatures of Habit
by Parapluie Lire
Summary: It's so much easier to pretend you're fine when you're helping someone else who's obviously not. Chris/Clarisse
1. Habitual

**Title: Creatures of habit**

**word count: 5,023**

**A/N: for the capture the flag competition. No prompts, pairing Chris/Clarisse and in total words! Hurray for speed writing! Also my longest one-shot! I have written multi-chapters shorter than this. Overall, I would advise you be be wary of my grammar which tends to get iffy with longer writing pieces.**

**Lastly, again I'm going to remind you all, this has NOT been beta-read so I apologize for any errors et. which I am almost certain, are littered all around this Fic. please take the time to review. **

* * *

Chris wasn't poor by any means. His Mom, Amelia, was a theif. She was a cheat and a swindler. All these labels were publicly announced in his morning papers daily. Though life went on and Chris turned a blind all these accusations were true, Amelia Rodriguez also happened to be the CEO of Degimod Industries.

Worth more than gold, the company had started up two years before Chris was born by Amelia herself. They shipped everywhere and to anyone. For that reason Chris grew up moving around. Fourteen and young, he was restless.

Living out of a hotel, albeit an expensive one, wasn't fun anymore. Sure, there were the perks, he never had to make his bed, wash his clothes but he never had a bed really either.

He had four different beds a week. One in Chicago, one in New York, one in Madrid and another on the plane to Paris. The movement never ended.

In a way, it kept him on his feet, and later he would learn, it kept his sent vague and had to pinpoint. It also gave him the kind of worldly experiences that came from camping out in South Africa with no bug spray. He was fluent in four languages, okay in two, so according to his mother, her job was a good thing.

His mom was amazing. She was single, a millionaire, and his primary caregiver. Raising him by herself and running a multi-million international business had to have been hard.

That was why Chris relieved her of himself everyday. Wandering the streets of New York he never looked twice at the cyclops huddled on the side of the street. There were homeless people everywhere. However, the cyclops saw him.

Turning onto fourty second street filled with tourist shops she was shoved into an alley.

A mean man, buff and tall looked down on him. "Grah" it frowned and started forward. Chris wanted to look up and take a look at the man'a face but he couldn't. He didn't know why but she couldn't.

Amelia always said that faces humanized people, how right she was.

Sprinting as fast as his legs could take him, Chris ran. The man followed.

Rushing past carts and tourists, Chris could feel the city layout beneath his feet. It was hard to explain but his internal GPS said left and he listened. Making a sharp turn around a corner he allowed himself a glance back. The Man was stumbling across a couple pedestrians who screamed in rapid fire Ukrainian but he didn't seem to notice.

He just pushed them to the side and continued holding a long metal bad.

That bat, Chris thought morosely, would be what he would use to bludgeon me with.

Chris kept running- or he would have had not a beat up truck blocked his path. "Move!" Chris screamed.

He looked for a way around but there was none. A boy, no older than twelve screamed back. "Get in!" He looked behind Chris and shuddered.

That at action was the deciding factor, this kid was afraid just like Chris. What was the worst this boy could do. Chris had been in fights, everyone loved to beat on the new guy(which had almost always been him) so he could hold his own. _If anything happened_, Chris reasoned,_ he would beat the boy in a fight_.

So in one fluid motion he jumped in. The truck started immediately and they were off. plowing down the street with the Man yelling gibberish behind them.

Looking around his surroundings, Chris realized just how stupid he had been. Rule number one about New York, never get into a car with a stranger. Chris, though, did t verbalized his thoughts. Instead he sat down and introduced himself.

"I'm Chris."

A girl who he hadn't noticed earlier nodded. She looked just as freaked out as he probably did. "Mary."

Chris nodded then turned to the younger boy who had instructed him into the car. "Louis." the boy said simply.

It was laughable how relaxed Louis looked compared to him and Mary, who Chris directed his next question to. "Where are we going? You can drop me off at forty first street."

Mary shook her head. "We can't drop you off, there might be more."

Chris almost rolled his eye. "Theres going to be thugs everywhere welcome to NYC, I'll be fine."

Shooting him a sour look at his sarcasm, Mary shrunk further into herself if that was even possible. "No, don't you get it. We can't stop Idiot. You can't go home."

Chris would have stood up if they weren't going at such a break neck speed. "Pull over. Pull over or-or I'll scream. I swear, I'll scream."

Louis actually did roll his eye. "You're not going home, no matter what you do. Listen to missy here. Don't worry though, you're going somewhere safe."

* * *

Phoenix, Arizona was beautiful in the summer time. That was one thing Clarisse missed.

Her mother was great and all but the slender, war scarred woman had nothing on the golden hillside.

Standing on the shores of Camp Half Blood, Clarisse could almost imagine she was home. It was this longing, urgent and compelling that led Clarisse back home.

Laura La Rue had set up security measures all over their house. Trip stones and wires scattered on their lawn. Those, Clarisse skillfully avoided. She knew what stepping on one of them would mean and she didn't like it.

Her Mother treated her nicely enough but Clarisse knew she wasn't really wanted. Especially not when Dan, Laura's other son that she had adopted with Clarisse's step father, was just comming home from the army.

As step-fathers went, Drake Killon was pretty great. He let her use his gun and everything. It was a standard glock but never the less, Clarisse treasured her time with it.

Dan wasn't was great. Older than her by five years, he was kind of the world in his own eyes. There was no one better than he, except of course himself.

So during the summer, Clarisse stayed outside and enjoyed the sun. She practiced her spear, did some conditioning, did her morning run and then she wandered.

Alone sure, but Clarisse was alright by herself. She didn't need Cronus to show everyone how tough she was, they just knew it.

Now, going on her mid-evening jog, Clarisse came across a boy. He was about as old as she but that really struck Clarisse was his hair. A chocolate brown that fell in curves to frame his face, he was bloodied. He was, admittedly cute un conscience and bloody, not that Clarisse would ever tell anyone.

Even she needed a crush.

Chris at camp was always so fair. He never chose sides yet he did have his own opinion. He was the kind of mediator that Clarisse would have teased but with Chris, she didn't.

Now he seemed to splurging Nonsense.

Sad how one could so drastically change.

He felt thinner and his chest seemed to have shrunk in size. He looked like a shell of his former self as she wordlessly led him inside of her house and inside of her room where she had never let a boy in before.

The next day she would face horrors beyond her imagination as a top secret quest from Chiron As a sayer, Louis something, came to pick Chris up.

Casting once last glance the next morning at Chris' shaking figure, Clarisse would enter the labyrinth.

* * *

"Where are you going Mary!" Chris hissed and the short girl jumped in surprise.

A knapsack was slung over her back and her sweatshirt pulled over her eyes. "Chris! What are you doing awake!"

It was mature but then again, sons of Hermes lived for immature. "I asked you first. Spill." He held up a carefully worded note that Mary had spent hours pouring over. "What' sat his?"

Mary couldn't help it. "A letter, duh" she said.

Flapping his arms in exasperation, Chris looked like he was going to explode. Opening the letter he began to read. "Dear Chris, we had a lot of great times but there's a time where our paths have to split, I can't live like this...!" Chris' voice got progressively louder as he read. "What in Hades do you mean! You planned to leave without even saying goodbye!"

"If was for the best and 'what the Hades am I talking about!' I'M TALKING ABOUT THIS FREAKING CAMP!"

Mary went red in the face. Chris' worry didn't matter anymore because fury took over. "Oh yeah, come with me, they said, we'll take care of you, YOU'LL BE LOVED!" Her voice broke on the last word and Chris wanted to pull Mary into a hug but she straightened out before he got the change.

"Chris," Her voice was quieter now. "I still don't know my parents, it's been two years, I can't do this any longer. I'm going to join Luke."

_Luke_.

Chris' half brother, handsome and rouge, Luke had gotten on well with Mary Though not quite as well with Chris.

He could still remember the boy's encouraging words as he helped to train The younger kids. He remembered his envy that his best friend wanted to spend time with his brother not him.

"just try a little longer." Chris continued to plead but Mary's eyes had hardened.

"What, and end up like Ethan! No, I'm not going to be helpless, I'm going to do something about it."

He didn't know where the courage came from but he placed his arms on Mary's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Mary, don't go."

She tilted her head up and matched him, arms over lapping with his as she faintly smiled. "No."

It wasnt a complete rebuttal so Chris plowed on. "So what if I go with you?"

Mary's eyes widened and she whispered. "Really? Truly?"

Chris wanted to lie as he was selling his soul but this was Mary. It was impossible to lie or even attempt to say no. "Yes." And then noses almost touching, she kissed him.

They stayed, arms wrapped aroundeachother before they finally left. Leaving two empty bunks in the Hermes cabin which two eager campers who were anxious to get off the floor filled. No one even noticed they were gone until six months later when Chris reappeared in Arizona.

* * *

Clarisse was in pitch black.

Something howled behind her and she ran as fast as her legs could take her. She' dolts her flashlight and her spear in a scuffle earlier. With no light, she was lost in a forever going maze.

Curling up in a ball seemed like the rational thing to do. What else could she do Besides that?

Stumble around in the dark some more? fight imaginary monsters and run from imaginary sounds? Clarisse refused to do that any longer.

* * *

"Ahh" Mary made a quest sound as she stepped on a trick stone. Giant swords shot out of the walls, impaling her to the ground to bleed out. Just like that, she was gone. Chris watched the life bleed out of his best friend-slash-possible girlfriend.

The whole reason that Chris was in the maze was for Mary. How could he live knowing that he had stayed behind as she journeyed to her sure death. die she did and Chris wondered what was crueler. For him to hear of her death and not be able to do anything about it or to hold her in his arms and she does with nothing he could do about it.

Either way he was helpless and Mary was doomed.

Luke had sent fifty eight of his fellow demigods into the maze to scout. Of them all, Chris was the only one to have volunteered.

he did it for her. The girl who never looked twice while he hoped. He followed her to leave the camp and then again to join Luke.

He wanted her alive, he wanted her safe, all he had ever wanted was for her to wake up and realize that what she was doing was risky.

Longing for the day where Mary would realize she was mean at times, that she was reckless and she was a fool and that Chris forgave her every time. He just wanted her to see that she hurt people. She hurt him.

Now she never would.

He wandered along after that encounter. Screaming out for the friend who would never answer. He tried to drag her body back out into the sun with him when he finally did find an exit but he wast strong enough. He dropped her somewhere in the blackness. It was pure survival instinct that led him to the light.

He could only fall out of the cursed hell hole and scream her name as he slipped into an haze.

when he awoke Louis was standing over him just like when he was fourteen but this time there was no Mary.

* * *

Clarisse took three weeks just for herself when she finally got out of that hell hole. No one was allowed in her room. She didn't report to Chiron but she had a feeling that he knew all about her quest anyway.

The world was a dark place no doubt but Clarisse had never been afraid. She had never been truly hopeless. She had always had her wits and her brawn. In the cave everything was different.

In the cave Clarisse was alone. She didn't have any light.

The basic fact of humanity is that light brings brightness and brightness bring clarity. In the tunnels there was only her and what she could feel.

She was worse than blind.

She was completely and utterly helpless.

though life moved on, going at ins amply fast paces and other times almost grinding to a halt. Now, the days seemed to drag on. They bleed into one another like the labyrinth.

She didn't know day from night but she did know her sword.

She would practice at anytime.

Her sense of time had gone out the window so really anytime was a good time.

Slicing off the heads off each of her old dolls and toys one by one. She gave them names and humanized them. She created connections before she spilled their stuffing guts all over her floor.

Clarisse's mother didn't notice nor mind.

Teenage girls are odd, her step father would shrug and move on to something more another of his attention. For example: what was for Dinner.

Clarisse spiraled down like a wounded bird and fell into a phase that she swore never to allow to happen to her again.

Later, she wouldn't even acknowledge that this period of slamming does and decapitating toys had existed.

But it did and it lasted for almost a whole trimester.

* * *

Chris was sitting at the Hermes table. No one would look at him.

He went and sacrificed to his father while noting absence.

It wasn't unusual to see the camp director off doing his own thing but it had been normal to see him at least once during the day. So far, Chris hadn't seen him.

Pout of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of hair. Immediately he turned word it. It was Mary.

She stood behind him and beckoned with her hands and pointed to the fire, except Chris didn't see the fire, he was a boat. The same boat that they always rode out on the Camp Half Blood Lake.

"Go try it out," Mary urged and Chris obliged.

Sure it was odd to see the boat in the middle of the clearing but the discomfort didn't phase him. He started toward it and hopped in.

It was hotter then Chris tempered and his legs hurt. Actually his whole lower body hurt and his torso was being urgently beat at.

He looked, only for a moment, at his legs but when he looked up Mary was gone and half the camp looked down at him as they thudded and as he fount back.

He was sitting in a fire place and his clothes were burn. His skin was in agony and then he screamed. Falling over on his hands in an attempt to get out of the fire place he wormed his way out.

Mary had reappeared and she was laughing. "Can't believe you fell for that." She snickered and Chris smiled.

Pain forgotten, he stared at he face and laughed too as he passed out for the second time that week.

The next time he woke up it was to see the grim face of Argus and an Apollo kid.

His whole lower body and forearms were bandaged and his mouth was dry from what he guessed had been ambrosia.

Instructed to drink the glass of neuter, Chris complied. Mary was back again but she was being held off by Argus.

Maybe it was painkillers but that was _wrong_.

Mary was his _friend_.

She would be able to see him.

When Chris said this Argus gave him a dissaproveing look while the Apollo camper looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"She-Shes's my friend- LET HER IN!" Chris yelled and almost screamed when the small girl was gone and Argus had moved to the side to show nothing more but air.

Four weeks later when Chris had been moved to the big House for his sudden 'outbursts' he had come to a rational solution to his Mary Dilemma. The answer was simple really.

Mary was a ghost.

When he had finally whinnied enough, Louis was forced to visits him just to sit home up. that was when Chris shared his hypothesis.

The sayer looked melancholy when he walked in to the small bedroom that had never in the time that Chris had inhabited had a visitor. The room had been his prison and it seemed to suffocate him. All white and pure, so different from the grimy walls he endured in the labyrinth.

But five minuets into their conversation, his hazel eyes began to harden.

"You're being ridiculous." he scoffed and backed away.

He would have left had Chris not kept a steel grip on his had. "I'm not and you know it, I'm right! Mary's still alive! Shes just in that middle world and she needs out help!"

Frantic eyes searched in the cool sayers' but they only found small traces of remorse.

With a pang, Chris realized that this sayer had already accepted Mary's so-called fate. In a last ditch attempt he pleaded further. "We both know she's alive, you're her protector!"

With a defeated sigh, the sayer placed his hand on Chris' shoulder. "Listen boy, I'm a protector to a lot of demigods." Louis' voice was soft but it didn't make the content any easier to take. "Mary is dead and it's been six weeks, if she wasn't dead then then she certainly is now. If she really is a ghost she belongs to Hades and that means we don't interfere."

With those last words Louis tore his wrist away, taking advantage to Chris' stunned state. Then Chris was left alone and suddenly cold. Louis had no idea of the kind of state he left the teenage boy in. All Louis knew was that that boy, so happy and sarcastic, was gone and now Louis didn't even faintly recognize the pleading figure That called after him.

"All demigods die." He repeated to himself as he exited the Big House Trying to forget the wide-eyes boy.

Chris, still in the house, wished Mary would appear but for once, she stayed away Leaving him to himself. Alone.

* * *

Clarisse was forced back to camp by Silena Beuragaurd of all people. That wimp was nice enough but Clarisse wasn't in the friend market despite some-what thankful to the younger girl for getting her back on her feet.

In a way, during the trip to camp, Silena saw a side of Clarisse that no one ever saw. The vulnerable teenage girl side.

When they arrived at camp Clarisse didn't talk to anyone. She didn't even thank Silena but the pretty girl seemed to have expected nothing less as she flounced back to her cabin.

Returning to normalcy was harder than a she thought.

Going to spear drills no longer had the same appeal. After all, her spear hadn't helped her on her quest. In fact, Clarisse had _lost_ her spear on her quest.

The orld was too bright.

Clarisse's eyes had adjusted, they had done so a while ago but the sun light still burned like it had when she had first exited the labyrinth.

The light was blinding and harsh. Clarisse had craved the light and the sun and all they represented for weeks when she was in the cursed place. Now, in the sunlight, able to bask in the rays, Clarisse shied away.

The sun was unnatural. It was such a stark difference to the cold, dark, damp maze and Clarisse couldn't adjust.

Holing herself up in her own cabin would be a disgrace to her father. Clarisse was not being brave. She was fearful of the dark, she was scared of the light. There was no middle ground. The only way through was to get over it but so far, Clarisse wasn't ready for such a bold move.

"suck it up"

That had been her motto as a child and teen and suddenly now, under different circumstances she had a bitter taste in her mouthMatter saying it to herself.

Circumstances had changes and the thing was, Clarisse couldn't 'suck it up'.

So like any warrior slash tactician Clarisse retreated to fight another day.

She couldn't hide in her cabin so the Big house was her best bet For privacy. She still had a 'rep' to keep up. No sissy fear was gonna turn her into a public cry-baby.

Slinging open one of the many bedroom doors she collapsed on the bed. It was dark, the shades drawn and the lights off, perfectly blind she heard a muffled scream. s he scrambled off the bed, pulling out a concealed dagger.

Her defensive stance was perfect and so would have been her performance as she plummeting her opponent had he not been crying.

Huddled off to the side was Chris, the boy she had rescued and he looked terrified.

Pretending her own problems didn't exist was so much easier when she helping some other victim with their own messed up life.

* * *

"Mary's dead." Clarisse kept her voice flat and devoid of all emotion.

"I know that." He matched her tone.

"She's not coming back" Clarisse continued.

"...she will." Chis promised.

Chris was a dreamer, she was a fighter-together they matched fact to fiction. Polar opposits but now, they were undergoing what Clarosse liked to call 'Chris Rehab'. For four hours every day(usually longer) she would deny his

"She won't." Clarisse retorted.

"How do you know.

He was getting defensive and honestly he was a loyal guy. She respected that but not enough to let him go crazy, mourning and apparently, according to the Stoll brothers, jumping into fires.

"Because she's dead."

They were in a never ending dance and at times Clarisse wondered if she was doing him more harm then good.

"I don't see a body." He was so stubborn. Why couldn't he just see the evidence and think rationally?

"but she's dead!"But then again, here she was creaming at a cute mentally disturbed boy. Who was being rational in this situation? Not her.

"NO SHES NOT!" He defended again.

"Yes she is and you have to stop pretending otherwise."

"I'm not pretending, she's just-just a ghost right now."

With those last words, Chris retreated back into the corner while Clarisse leaned agonist the opposite wall watching him. She gauged his reactions and knew it was only a little more until the truth would hit home. His defenses were already crumbling. She would penetrate his fantasy citadels soon It only required more baiting.

* * *

Chris could have said a lot of things to calm the daughter of Ares down. She was a force to be reckoned with but he dared(And just prayed he wouldn't have to pay the price).

Battles had gone on and been lost and won. The Titan War was upon them and Clarisse was refusing to help.

She had banned the entire Ares Cabin from aiding their Other fellow campers because of apparently, a stupid chariot. Though Chris knew better, Clarisse had a strong sense of duty, she wouldn't just not leave because of a stupid chariot.

"Tell me what this is about." Chris tried to corner his girl friend but she was too smart for that and just slipped under his armed.

"What's there to say?" she said. She kept walking To the beach.

"I mean, why aren't we fighting?" Chris demanded.

He would follow Clarisse to the ends of the earth but he had friends besides Clarisse and they were currently relying g on him to bring the reinforcements. "Tell me." he urged again and this time she stopped.

Turning around with a tear in her eye(which she immediately brushed off and in the future, would always deny) she said something that shocked Chris into momentary silence.

"Because if we go, twelve people are going to die."

This was not the time for Clarisse to get all noble. "How do you know that?" he asked and she seemed all to ready to answer.

"My dad told me. He said if Ares goes then twelve will meet their end. it was a prophecy."

With those lest words she kept a faster pace then him, not looking back.

Eventually the two had to circle back to the Ares cabin and when they got there the whole place was deserted. Clarisse's armor was missing and she growled in frustration.

Chris knew where they had all gone. Personally she would have joined them and it hurt that they hadn't told him they were ditching.

"We have to go after them. Stop them!" Clarisse was almost hysterical as she led him out of the camp and summoning a taxi.

Together they rushed down to Manhattan in a matter of minuets but it was too late. He could see the smoke rising from the high rise buildings. People were falling off mopeds and drooling on their steering wheels. This was not good.

The sun was bright and shining, it was too good a day for murder but it wasn't up to Chris about that. It wasn't even up to the gods about who would die. It was all about the three fates and they were cruel.

Clarisse's prophecy, legitimate of not, would most diffidently come true.

Silena Beaurgaurd's crumpled form lay on the ground as the neared.

She was wearing Clarisse's armor And that could only mean one thing. As Clarisse cried for the second time, Chris looked away. He and Silena weren't close. He knew nothing more about her then how she was Clarisse's best friend and her name.

He hoped that she wouldn't die in vain like Mary. Just to fade away, forgotten.

* * *

There was a fantastic rush as Clarisse picked up a weapon, any weapon, and charged. Her vision was red and she just knew one thing.

That Drakon was going down.

* * *

In the end, Chris cried and Clarisse stood tall.

Suck it up, she told herself but despite it all, tears did arrive as they burnt the fallen's funeral pyre.

She and Chris walked away seven hours after the ceremony had ended and everyone had been long gone.

She he only made to leave when their friends and comrades had burnt away. Flames no longer licking at their mortal corpses. only ashes remained. And there, Chris kissed Clarisse. It was light and sudden but it was still a kiss. She returned it as they walked away.

* * *

**A/N: If anyone noticed, Degimod (The company that Chris' mom works for) is an anagram. (demigod) switch the 'm' and the 'g'.**

**(the rest of this a/n is just my nonsense rumblings.)**

**There's actually a funny story to go with this. The actual due date of the of the challenge was two days ago but I at that time hadn't proof read(and I still haven't) and also my word count had only been 1.6k. in the instance of being late the penalty is to loose five points so I just wanted to reach 2k to get more points and eventually I raised my goals when I reached 3k and I wanted a nice odd number.**

**if it's any consolation to all my fuming grammar and spelling readers, I do plan to revise this one-shot and replace it some time in the next month. **

**Always writing,**

**-Rrit**


	2. Godsend

**A/N: _inspired by the show Scandal_**

**This was meant to be posted eight hours ago but an oddly long nap got in the way. Technically it was meant to be posted a week ago but never mind that. Read on and review. **

* * *

5 mouths before

Albuquerque

17:10

Air was humid with the odd breeze every few hours. Gaurd duty was tedious.

Chris was on guard duty.

Now, one might ask why-why was the Stanford alumni with more then enough brains and athletics to spare being wasted on gaurd duty?

He was one out of hundreds of others posted behind the fence. The thing was, Chris wasn't like everybody else.

He was smarter.

He was faster.

He was nieve.

Yet he was a pawn.

Chris was just a pawn.

He didn't get medals or anything in return. He was just there.

But he knew so much. He'd heard of soliders on suicide missions, unknowingly marching to their death and he thanked the gods above that he wasn't one of them. But inside, truly, he wished he was.

Though he was, in away, one of them all the same. Weren't they all pawns to some higher force?

Chris didn't know that though. Through all the multiplication and physics stuffed into his tiny little brain Chris thought that those suicide soldiers were free.

They were of higher rank.

They could speak on level with the almighty Sargent.

They were everything that Chris wanted to be.

The answer is yes for future reference. Yes Chris was foolish and yes. All men are pawns to the whims of those above.

There is no escape.

But Chris had to try.

Luke offered an oppertunity. He gave a way out and Chris was sick of being a pawn. He didn't want to just be unrecognized and expendable. He wanted to matter.

He wanted to be pivotal.

Luke looked at Chris and there wasn't even a hesitation before the army private took his hand. "I'm in."

Luke smiled. "Good."

...

6 months later

Unknown location

00:15 hours

"Do you know where you were?" The girl questioned.

In. Out.

"No." Chris dead panned and she smirked.

In. Out.

"Oh, good. Let's make this fun." A fist came flying at his face. "Four months ago you were part of operation SoM, and five months ago you were recruited off an army training base in Albuquerque by terrorist Luke Castilian. True or false?"

She didn't give him time to answer before a knife punctured his arm. Not deep enough to kill, only a cut.

Regardless, a scream broke out in his lungs. But no words came, only pain.

In. Out.

"This is the Junkyard of the Gods kid, there is no fun."

The white walls of the interrogation room were clean. So bright and white it hurt to look. Chris stared at his hands. Where else could he look?

Certainly not at the woman. She was probably smiling and Chis didn't want to see her perfect teeth dashing because of him. Because he was hurt. Because she was a psychopath.

"I know it's true Chris. You don't have to answer and lying would end badly for you."

In. Out.

She grabbed his chin and brought him to her eyes. Tearing his view of his hands and replacing it with her beautiful face. There was a flash of red in her glare before everything mellowed out.

Smiling again she didn't remove her hand or lessen the pressure on his jaw.

Chris wished the mad woman would stop looking at him with her eerie gray eyes.

In. Out.

He breathed.

No. He screamed in his head. He wanted to yell out loud but he couldn't.

He shouldn't have opened his mouth.

But he did.

If only just a moment to breath but it happened.

In. Out.

Chris was going insane.

In. Out.

If given the opertunitey he was sure the wench would easily shove a python down his thoat for kicks.

She'd even laugh as the python ate him from the inside out.

"Why am I here?"

"Dunno but I'm here because we know everything you know and we want you."

"What?" Chris splurged. Blood seemed to build up in his mouth.

In. Out.

It pooled by his tongue and he spat it out. It stained red on the perfect white floor. The first flaw on the polished surface was blood. His blood.

In. Out.

The woman looked indifferent.

In. Out.

Streaming blood with blurry vision, he must have been dreaming. "You want me?"

In. Out.

The woman straightened up. "Yes. Essentially. And all you have to say is yes. This or die." She eyed him again.

The psychopath in her was gone but the woman was still there.

In. Out.

"Listen to me carefully, I know you inside and out. You don't want to just disappear one day as if you never existed." She smiled again. The Psychopath switch was once again flipped on. LI can do that. What about your fiancé and daughter? You don't want them to die. So say yes."

She spat out the last three words with some much venom, Chris could almost feel her spit stinging his cheek. She wasn't laughing but the gray eyes were still dancing with some perverse joy.

Still stormy.

"Yes."

Chris regretted it instantly.

Gray-eyes smiled and her laugh returned. "Good."

...

Five hours after consent

Location codename: Olympus

5:16

Stepping into the blinding white building, Chris had to cover his eyes. All surfaces were completely white. Cubicle office spaces were tightly packed and Chris was lead of one of the hundred dozen identical desks.

In. Out.

It wasn't much better then the interrogation room.

In. Out.

A single file was on the table which Chris opened.

A single name in typewriter red stood out against the otherwise blank sheet.

Printed neatly in red ink were two words.

'Zoë Nightshade'

That was it. No other information, just a name.

A head popped up from over the next cubicle.

She was pretty in a rough way. Hair scraped back behind a headband with blood, that Chris doubted belonged to her, smeared on her forehead.

"Hey partner. Who'd we get?"

"Huh?" Was the only thing Chris could manage.

...

"So we're arms for hire?" Chris asked again as Clarisse gave him a light push. She laughed.

Chris, at that time thought that Olympus was something great.

Something to be proud of.

Proud to be part of.

It was his haven. Where he'd escaped from normality; it made him different.

At that time, he still thought different was a good thing.

He would learn later Otherwise.

Sighing but still smiling, Clarisse rubbed her temple. "How many times! We're a branch of the government that deals with the more messy issues. And at times we lend out our services."

"That's a yeah then?" Chris tried, sitting attop the cubical wall that separated them.

"No."

"What? But you just-"

Chris smiled and laughed at her but not before her expression changed. for that matter the entire atmosphere in the large room changed. She roughly pulled him down and a single word was whispered throughout. "Zeus."

"What?" But Chris saw.

An imposing man, almost seven feet tall, towered over them. He glared down upon Chris as if he had just insulted him, but didn't act. Instead he turned to Clarisse. "You're father wants a successful mission. Grant him so."

For some reason Clarisse's mouth pursed and she began to subtly shake.

Chris was surprised to find himself shaking too.

That man had complete and utter control over their lives. Chris would learn so later.

Though at the moment all Chris knew was confusion. He was an Olympus agent. The status alone gave him priority and command over almost anyone. Why was one man in control over them?

In. Out.

Though, when he did it would be too late.

In. Out.

...

one day later

Denver

12:45

"It's easy." Clarisse announced. She slung her AtlasSky over her shoulder, fit on the silencer and took a shot.

Zoë Nightshade didn't even have a chance. She crumpled to the ground dead.

In. Out.

From their vantage point atop a building, Chris could still see the heavy river of blood the hemorrhaged from the head wound. It was quick and it was easy but there was still that image.

In. Out.

The blood streaming onto the concrete as passer us screamed and ducked. They expected another shot, but no, it would never come.

Like Chris, they were safe until it was their name in the red ink.

Unlike Chris, they were pawns. Pigs who obediently line up until slaughter. They know it was coming but they refuse to act. Chris was now the butcher. He was a bishop. He had his wish. he was now monumental. Pivotal. But did he like it?

Did he regret it?

Was being a pawn somehow better than a bishop?

...

four hours after

Denver, Assime Motel

04:46

Chris watched Clarisse clean out her gun. She looked calm. She looked collected. She looked like everything he wished he could be.

"How do you do it?" He asked after a while and she turned to face him

She really was pretty, with brown eyes and hair hat fell around her shoulders. Though there was a coldness in her eyes.

"Stupid question, right." he murmured and turned away.

Did the same but she also answered him. "No, it's not." she whispered. Chris almost thought he'd imagined it but a part of him knew, or wanted to know that it was true. That perhaps, with a sliver of hope Clarisse saw the truth too.

What they just did was wrong.

But Chris was in no position to stop.

...

Two years later

New Orleans, Louisiana

13:44

Two figures shot up from behind a building to behind the one across the street. They nimbly climbed a safety ladder to the roof.

On the right was a boy and the left a girl. It was the boy that pulled out his gun. The girl watched as he set it up and took the shot. The boy didn't bother attaching the silencer.

One gun shot rang through the empty street.

One body fell to the ground in the mist of talking out his trash.

Two people disappeared into the shadows.

...

Seven months later

in behind the Empire State Building, New York

23:54

Chris watched impassively as Zeus, himself, deliver the news.

"We have a trator and your job is to kill her."

Chris nodded.

"My advisers thought you couldn't do it-I think different."

Chris nodded again.

"You have a week."

This time Chris stayed silent, unmoving as Zeus placed a slip of paper on the ground.

Soon on as he had appeared he was gone and Chris ran to the paper. He flipped it over, daring it to say something else. It was true.

_'Clarisse La Rue'_

Something inside Chris broke.

Balling up the paper, Chris walked off into the night. His shadow long behind him, walking off toward the east.

...

thirty minuets later

Upper East Side, New York

00:14

She was waiting for him. Tired and exhausted but still alive. "Don't you realize what we're doing?" She asked, breaking the silence.

Chris didn't respond. Inside, he was trembling.

For years they'd talked about starting fresh. Once all the junk with Olympus was cleared up they'd both run away to his vary apartment. They'd start a life together. Clarisse had gone and ruined that plan.

"I know you thought that plan would work." She said, answering his unsaid thoughts. "I did too for a bit but no one ever escapes Olympus. Once we said yes we were bound for life."

Chris brought his old glock up, clicked the safety off, and took aim.

In. Out.

Clarisse brought her own up. "I love you." She confessed with a short laugh.

In. Out.

_I love you too._

Two shots penetrated the air and like so many people before them, Clarisse and Chris fell with perfect bullets in their hearts.

Each shot by their love, there was no way else for this story to end.

They were two in thousands. Olympus lives on.

You could be next.

...

Percy Jackson, new recruit, looked to his gray eyed, slightly manatical partner and smirked. "Look at this file. Stupid."

The woman just nodded.

"Both dead with one bullet wound to the chest, severed vital organs." He read aloud.

"If that was me I would have known she was going to shoot back. He could have dodged." Percy reasoned, trying to get a response.

Gray-eyes looked impassive but she agreed. Both promising agents, she herself, had recruited them.

Both, though, had fallen for each other.

In other words, they had fallen in love to their deaths.

Annabeth was smart. She wouldn't make the same mistake.

_The cycle starts again. _


	3. Asylum

**A/N: Last minuet and shorter than I would have liked.**

**Game Changer/AU Challenge ****- option B**

**Roman-Greco Roman comp. at PJFC**

**-(Dialouge) "I hope you end up in Tartarus"**

**-(Emotion) Triumph**

**Capture the Flag comp. ****- Clarisse x Chris - Birthday**

* * *

Climbing to Nowhere

-Clarisse-

* * *

Spinning out of control, it's your birthday. You've forgotten again; there's no one to remind you. Mom was suppose to but she can't now.

She died a week ago, but you were on stupid gaurd duty.

Guarding a damn stupid camp.

What kind of daughter are you?

A bad one.

A disappointment.

A failure.

Jackson's preaching again. He always does- _Let's fight for the good that the god's have done! _- he'd say. Every time, Jackson narrowly misses a sock to the face because you can keep control. You want to so bad but you won't.

Maybe it's because you're not brave enough. Maybe it's because he's the poster child of powerful and still scares you a bit from the toilet incident. Maybe it's because he reminds you of who you were.

One day, you promise, you're going to punch him (hard) with no regrets. You're not going to worry about what's going to happen afterwards. You're just gonna do it. So be it, cometh the revenge and retaliation but you'll still have won.

You'd defeated the monster that was seemingly untouchable.

He's ignorant but you're not. If the god's were really so good they wouldn't have killed your mother. They would have _cared_ for _their_ children. They would have been _better_.

Now the choice is up to you. Taking a walk, Chris -he trys, okay- attempts to convince you to send Ares' support.

Selfish you know, but you don't want to. Somewhere, you want the gods to fall And you want to have played a part in it.

Then stupid Silena of stupid Aphrodite had to be nobel. That stupid, stupid girl had to have been your stupid friend. Then she stupid had to die.

She just _had_ to be a maytr.

And you just _had_ to avenge her.

Fire consumed you, red edged your vision as you fought. Slashing and climbing the drakon's scales you punctured through his armor. You did the impossible and it wasn't enough. Killing a stupid beast didn't bring your friend back nor did it make anything 'better'.

Though despite it, you kept going. You kept fighting even when you didn't want to. You wanted the gods on their knees but you wanted your friends safety.

No more Silenas. No more Moms. No more dying comrades.

All the gods had to show for Silena's death later was a pat on the back. Your dad - who apparently 'missed' your mom - complemented you. So different from his past apathy, you welcomed it. Just like that you were drawn back to poison that was the gods.

For a moment you thought everything was going to be good but you were wrong.

After the war there'd be times where you'd wake up in a cold sweat. It was that birthday that you always woke from.

The drakon turning it's head as you went to deliver the final blow. You'd thrust forth with the same velocity and anger as you had before but this time you stopped short. Your spear never made it to the target because it was too slow. Or even if you did it was too weak.

The spear would brake off like Jackson broke your first electric spear and the Drakon would laugh and laugh and laugh. Chiron's voice would come out from the mouth of jagger teeth telling you what he always said.

He said he had to re-schedule your private lesson again and to try harder next time. The thing that scared you the most wasn't the ridicule or even the dispassion, it was how you had tried your vary hardest and it wasn't enough.

The euphoria was there, the passion and the strength, but it wasn't enough. Then you'd wake up before the drakon's flames hit you. You woke up before you did because perhaps your brain knew too that dying wasn't a fear. It was being inadequate or ambiguity that horrified you.

Whenever the nightmares visited you would pick up your custom 'H'phone and call up Chris. You didn't care if he was sleeping because he was most likely having a nightmare too.

You talked about life and school - anything besides the nightly horrors. Your too proud to admit you even had them, but Chris wasn't. He'd tell you his latest and you would listen. It was all okay even though you never spoke because he understood.

He dreamt of some old friend, Mary he called her. Past flame or lover - you didn't mind. Every dream shared was a little piece of him that he was giving to you. You received them with silence and if anyone asked you in ten years, you could easily recite them all from memory.

It was true demigods got visions of the past and future. They had prophetic dreams all the time of thing they couldn't comprehend but they also were half human.

Demigods got nightmares too. Those nightmares haunted you both night and day but they meant nothing as a puzzle piece to some greater good. They were just fragments of your life. Regular things that were so human and so dangerous.

Dreams that even started spilling into your daily ongoings. You stabbed your half brother to the cusp of death thinking he was a Cyclopes.

It felt good - better then killing the Drakon - and you hated it.

Chiron thought it best to isolate you with your own custom room in the Big House. You still called Chris and he still told you stories though no outside visual or physical contact was allowed.

All you had in that tiny little room was a phone - no cord though - a bed, and a window. You watched as more and more people moved into the Big House. The private rooms started filling up and you heard screaming every night.

You didn't scream though. You were stronger if only just.

Eventually there were more people inside the Big House walls than out. Chris never crossed the Big House threshold but in a perverse sense you wished he would.


End file.
